


Free fall through our midnight

by crookedspoon



Series: No Nuptials Necessary [11]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Breast Fucking, Hand Jobs, M/M, POV Dick Grayson, Tumblr: JayDick Flash Fanwork Challenge, Wife Jason Todd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 09:23:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20468723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon
Summary: Dick is looking forward to seeing Jason, but Jason is annoyed that Dick's lateness ruined his plans for the evening. They compromise.





	Free fall through our midnight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inihiu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inihiu/gifts).

> For the prompt "Late" at jaydick-flashfic and "Choking" from Batfam Bingo (just a mention).
> 
> This work contains a mention of consensual but not safe or sane practices between them, so if you'd rather not read that, skip from "You looked pretty ecstatic" to "Yeah, that was hot." Also warning for bad puns.

By the time Dick makes it home, he's almost asleep on his feet but he can't help the grin that's spreading on his face the closer he comes to his apartment.

He's never considered any of the places he's rented as anything more than somewhere to crash after a long night out on patrol, somewhere to stash his belongings and catch a quick shower. Hell, he's never really been aware of the spaces he feels secure in because he's either unconscious catching up on sleep, or moving through them in a daze – reading through his case files or exchanging one set of uniform for another.

He's certainly never looked _forward _to coming home. Has, in fact, stretched the time away from it as much as his fatigue would allow, so he could work more cases. These days, he's willing to turn in early if the streets seem quiet enough.

It helps to know that dinner is waiting for him, and that he won't have to whip up anything himself. You can only get so creative when your staples don't go beyond pasta, white rice, and a random assortment of preserves.

He shouldn't be thinking about food now.

His stomach is growling as his keys jangle in the lock, and not for the first time he wonders how he ever managed to survive this long without a meal plan and someone to make him stick to it. He used to snatch what he could get when he could get it, like the mountainous veggie burgers from that little all-night diner on East Lamar or the delicious burritos from the family-owned restaurant on Henry Avenue. It's never been a sustainable diet, but it got him through the days.

Ever since he first tasted his wife's cooking, however, he wants nothing else anymore. Maybe he'll make an exception for Alfie's cooking, for old times' sake, but that's about as far as his preferences go.

Dick's stomach drops when he finds his apartment empty and dark, but the faint whiff of ginger and turmeric tells him Jason had been here and used his kitchen. Of course. Why did he think Jason would wait around for him when he didn't even take the time to tell him he'd be running late?

A part of him had been hoping Jason would be gone. After the standoff at the train yards, Dick has no energy left to be the husband that Jason needs. Another part of him is disappointed. Knowing that he'd get to see Jason once all of that mess was over got him through it in the first place.

Dick flicks the light on and the first thing he does, even before taking off his jacket, is walk to the closet in his bedroom that serves as a shortcut to the apartment next to his own, the one he's rented as a place to stash his more sensitive equipment. He'd offered Jason the keys when it became clear he wouldn't stop breaking into Dick's apartment to check up on him and... clean. No matter what Dick had to say about it.

These days, he uses it to change out of his Red Hood gear to become just Jason before he enters Dick's apartment to become his wife.

"Jason," Dick calls as he pops his head through the back of the closet. "Are you here?"

He steps through, and there the man is, buckling up his holsters in front of the bed.

Jason pretends not to hear, because he neither answers nor stops getting ready to get out. Dick walks up to him, soles first clicking on the wooden floorboards, then treading softly on the rug. 

"What did I tell you about wearing shoes inside the apartment?" Jason asks, with his back turned.

Dick starts. "Not to?"

"Damn right."

Dick smiles, wraps his arms around Jason, and slides his hands up his torso to squeeze Jason's impressive pecs through his armored shirt. Jason stiffens.

"Feel free to get on your knees and take them off for me," Dick says, voice low and husky, just the right timbre to turn Jason's spine into goo.

When he leans over and presses a kiss against Jason's jugular, he sees it, out of the corner of his eye. The apron. Placed neatly onto the bed. 

"Oh," he says and drops his hands to Jason's waist. "I'm sorry."

The apron is cotton candy pink, and frilly. Not their usual. _Be sweet with me,_ it says.

"My favorite," Dick whispers. The surprise is a pleasant one, and in his exhausted state more than welcome besides. 

Jason snorts. "I thought red was your favorite."

His body softens somewhat in Dick's embrace and he nudges his head back against Dick's. Dick squeezes him tighter, breathing out a soft laugh against Jason's neck.

"I like the threat of red," he admits as he plays with the Jason's belt loops. "The execution of it is... always different and never easy."

"You looked pretty ecstatic last time."

Dick's cheeks heat. Images of Jason on the bathroom floor, drenched and desperate and vomiting up water, flash through his mind. He remembers the spongy wetness of his hair as he grasped it, the panic in his eyes as he yanked his head back, the violent heaving and spasming of his chest as Dick marked his face up with his come. Remembers also how soundly Jason had slept that night, curled up against Dick's side, with no nightmares to disturb his slumber.

But most of all, he remembers the high that had carried him through all this. A perverse sort of pleasure at getting to live out his worst possible self and have Jason take the brunt of it. He feels queasy thinking about it. This is why red apron nights are... difficult. They confront Dick with a part of himself he'd rather not examine. It's too easy to spiral out of control.

And yet, he couldn't be more grateful to Jason for giving him this.

"Yeah, that was hot," he says, a little too breathlessly for comfort. Arousal is curling through in long, languid tendrils. "Did you notice that pink is a light form of red?

Jason whips his head around and his expression is guarded. "What are you trying to say?"

"Nothing," Dick laughs, takes Jason's hands into his, and tugs him around to so they are face to face. From the look of it, Jason is unconvinced. "I just think it's fitting. Since me being sweet to you is like mild form of torture for you." He twists Jason's wedding band around his finger. "You know, my favorite apron is always the one you're wearing at the moment. But I was delighted to see your choice tonight is pink. As if you had read my mind to see what I'm in the mood for."

Jason scoffs and flicks Dick's tie into his face. "That's not how you approached me just now."

"Hey, now," Dick shoots back, mourning the loss of warmth on Jason's fingers against his own. "Statistically, blue is still more likely pink, okay? I'm not a clairvoyant."

Jason makes a gruff noise, but at least he has the decency not to disagree.

"So, can we start over?"

Jason waves him off. "Don't bother. Mood's gone." He picks up the apron and drapes it over his arm, like a server at a fancy restaurant with a very frilly towel. "I'm heading back to Gotham. Dinner's in the fridge."

It's not what Dick wanted to hear. Disappointment settles on him like a blanket, but he slaps it away, refusing to be buried. "Is there no other mood I can attend to?" he asks and reaches out to brush his thumb along Jason's jawline, as if a simple touch could make him stay.

Something inside Dick's chest thrills when Jason's lips quirk and his eyes flicker to the floor, borderline sheepish.

"So there is something." He grins. "Spit it out."

Jason huffs and runs his tongue over his bottom lip. "Just now, when you..." He mimics squeezing breasts. "I thought..."

"You want me to fuck your tits?" Dick blurts.

"Don't call them tits," Jason says with a frown.

Dick can't help himself. He knows he's playing with fire, but he leans close, places both his hands on Jason's pecs, and asks, "Tidds, then? Like Jason Tidd?"

"Oh my God, I hate you," Jason says and shoves Dick away. "Fuck off, man. Just fuck off."

Dick falls onto the bed laughing. Jason shakes his head, disbelieving and exasperated, puts his apron into a drawer with the rest of the spares, and moves to the desk where his helmet, guns, and jacket are. 

"Jason. Wife. Darling. Don't leave." Dick is too exhausted to get up, but he reaches a tired arm toward his wife anyway, hoping he'll take pity on him. "I'm sorry, okay? Give me a chance. I want this."

"Since when is this about what _you _want?" Jason asks and kicks at Dick's dangling boots. Dick is not gonna lie, he's _delighted _to hear Jason acknowledge so plainly that they're doing this for his benefit. Few things please Dick more than watching Jason grow into his own.

"Since I want what you want, pretty much always."

Jason shakes his head, but he smiles, and okay, maybe what will always please Dick most is watching Jason sink to his knee in front of him. 

Dick just stares, awkwardly keeping his head up to drink Jason in as he undoes Dick's laces. The orange twilight filtering through the windows washes out some of the harsher lines of Jason's face and makes it appear as if it were glowing from within.

"I'm so turned on right now," Dick groans, fingers loosening his tie all by themselves.

Jason smirks at him as he tosses Dick's boot over his shoulder. Jason! Simply tossing things somewhere! Dick is shocked. And harder than he should be.

The other shoe off, Jason helps him unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down his thighs. That's his wife, always doing all the work for him. Dick grins softly. It's a short-lived grin, because no sooner are Dick's pants out of the way, does Jason cup him through his boxer briefs.

Dick moans, exhausted enough to be overwhelmed by a simple touch. With a hand to the back of his neck, he stops Jason from going down on him. He has learned early on that Jason really likes driving Dick to the brink and beyond with his mouth alone. He's made plenty of use of that. 

It's just that tonight he's gonna have to sit this one out.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Dick says, carding his fingers through Jason's soft curls. "I'm not gonna last much, so I'd rather move right to the main course if you don't mind."

Jason just looks up at him with that ridiculously hot smolder he has and takes off his shirt, muscles rippling as he pulls it over his head. Yeah, Dick is not going to last much at all.

He shimmies out of his pants and Jason, bless his neat freak soul, takes the time to fold it and place it on the nearest chair. Dick hooks his his thumbs over the waistband of his boxer briefs and gets rid of those too, throwing them to the other side of the room so Jason wouldn't pick them up and leave in search of a laundry hamper.

His cock is hot and filling, and Jason's pants are a bit rough against it when he tugs him down for a kiss. Jason's weight is both comfortable and delicious, and Dick can barely decide if he wants to wind his arms around him and continue kissing him till the cows come home, or if he wants to hike up his legs and ask if Jason would like to take the reins tonight. It's been so long since anyone has taken _him _apart.

Neither is an option. Jason already decided on what he would like tonight, and Dick is nothing if not a pleaser. What Jason wants, Jason gets. Well, within reason.

As so often, Jason is pliable and lets Dick roll him onto his back. It's so difficult to stop kissing Jason when he's this receptive, and he only waits long enough for him to unbutton his shirt. With a heroic effort, Dick manages to pull his knees under him, tugging his tie out of its loop and making it sail across the room. It's a pity that all he feels under his ass as he sits up is the plastic hardness of Jason's cup, not his cock. Maybe it's better that way. Dick wasn't supposed to get distracted by grinding himself against it.

Instead, he licks his lips and scoots up higher, settling on Jason's chest and running his hands over those beautiful pecs. They're soft and warm, and Dick massages them, feeling Jason's heart beat against his palm. His cock nestles comfortably between them.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," Dick breathes in awe and marvels and the way his fingers dimple Jason's flesh.

Jason licks his lips and directs his smolder up at him, as Dick bites his own lips and begins to rub the underside of his cock against Jason's chest.

"You're so soft," he moans and gently presses Jason't pecs together so more of his skin would be touching his cock, flicking his thumb over his nipples as he does so.

The friction is so good and although his limbs had been heavy with the need for sleep until just now, Dick finds himself pumping his hips, invigorated. Warmth is pooling in him, heart rate picking up, and he can't help panting like a dog in heat.

As he ruts away, he feels sudden heat on his hands as Jason places his own on top of them to add more pressure. Dick's cock is beading with wetness and it slides down the tip and slicks up their skin. The sweet glide of his underside against Jason's chest is in curious contrast to the rest of his cock that sticks to Jason's pecs via a faint coat of sweat. It drags at his skin almost painfully, but the sharpness only increases his pleasure.

As more and more sweat slicks up their skin, the sharpness recedes back into a dull throbbing that sends pulses of heat through him. He snaps his hips harder, molds Jason's flesh around him tighter, and gives in to the rush of it all.

He comes with a cry and a first splash against Jason's chin, startling the man, before he sits up a little higher and jacks his twitching cock over Jason's face, letting spurt after spurt rain down on it.

Jason's lips are parted and he's panting almost as hard as Dick is, mouthing at Dick's cock and knuckles even as Dick is wringing the last of his orgasm out of it.

Dick is trembling now, held up only by his high and the tension in his muscles, but below that he already feels his exhaustion creeping up like mist around a lake. He lets himself collapse beside Jason and pulls him in, lips and nose sliding against clear, salty fluid.

If he weren't so tired, he'd heave Jason on top of himself, but he can't even so much as nudge him.

"Fuck, that was nice," he says finally.

The smirk beneath Jason's darkly glittering eyes is something else. Especially with Dick's come oozing down his cheeks.

"Wanna fuck me?" Dick asks, surprising both Jason and himself.

"What?"

"You didn't come," Dick mumbles and wipes a speck of come from Jason's eyelashes. "I'm too beat to— but you can—"

"Give me your hand."

Dick does. There's the soft sound of a zipper, and then Jason's hand is like coals against his own, his length even hotter as he places it in Dick's palm. He closes their fingers around it, and Dick has to do nothing but feel Jason's heartbeat in his cock. It's hard and gliding silky smooth into the tunnel of their hands, and Dick is in love with listening to Jason's bitten-back moans, the little puffs of breath against his neck, and the stuttering of his hips.

There's a wet slapping of skin against skin, and then lines of fire erupt across Dick's stomach as Jason comes.

Dick smiles sleepily, ready to use his remaining strength to tug Jason down next to him so they could fall asleep together. But it turns out that Jason is too resistant to his pull. 

"Gimme an hour for a nap," he barters, barely able to get his teeth apart anymore. "We'll go on patrol together, then."

"Rest now, Grayson," Jason says, and maneuvers Dick's mostly unwilling body under the covers.

"Stay," he slurs again, blindly reaching out for Jason.

"Some other time," comes the answer and Dick feels a warm pressure on the top of his brow.

Once again, he has to fall asleep without his wife in his arms. At least he got to see him, feel him, taste him. It should be enough to get him through the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Descending" by Tool.
> 
> For my bro rik, the original jason tidds. Many thanks also to my best Kess for suggesting titfucking. I've had a version of the beginning of this fic lying around since the beginning of March. It was initially going to be pink apron, for the anon who requested it, but even when I dusted this thing off for the flash fic prompt, everything skidded to a halt the moment they were in a room together. Titfucking became the solution. Another wifey wip that I can tick off (well, half, anyway), hooray!


End file.
